


I know this room, I've walked this floor

by Serie11



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fire Emblem Trans Winter Exchange 2020, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Slice of Life, Small Towns, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Leonie Pinelli, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/pseuds/Serie11
Summary: After the war is won, Leonie takes Marianne to her home town to gain permission for them to marry.Along the way, Marianne discovers some other things about her partner.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30
Collections: Fire Emblem Trans Winter Exchange 2020





	I know this room, I've walked this floor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theshipsaileditself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsaileditself/gifts).



“And remember that we don’t shake hands,” Leonie fusses, ticking things off on her fingers. “You have to bow to the elders, but anyone younger than you has to bow to you. Since we’re together and you’re an outsider, everyone will treat you the same as me, so if someone bows to me and not you, then they’re insulting you and I’ll show them the business end of my lance. And you don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to, but everyone will be super nosy because no one usually comes through our town and if you’re marrying me then you’re family now so everyone will want to get to know you.” 

“I’ll follow your lead,” Marianne says, amused. The afternoon light filters through the trees above them as they meander down the path at a walk, their horses calm under them. They’re used to each other enough that the two women can ride side by side, and if Marianne wanted to, she could reach out and touch Leonie. Just because, no other reason. She smiles, lifting her head up to catch the late afternoon sunbeams. 

Leonie nods, eyes still slightly unfocused as she thinks. “Yeah, yeah. You won’t offend anyone, because you’re way too polite for that – well, you definitely won’t do it on purpose, but like I said, we do some things differently, so if you do end up offending anyone it won’t be your fault.” 

“I’m sure it can’t be harder than memorising the titles of every lord who is coming to a party because I have to greet them all,” Marianne says, thinking back to her days living at the Edmund manor. Her uncle had thought that the best way to boost her confidence would be to thrust her directly into the spotlight for every social event that the Edmund estate hosted. All that means is that now Marianne is very good at appearing calm under pressure. 

“That’s true,” Leonie admits. “Even after spending all that time with a bunch of nobles, your rules still don’t make much sense to me.” 

“They don’t make much sense to me either,” Marianne says. “But when you grow up with these things, I suppose you just get used to them.” 

“I’ll just be awkward if I ever meet your father,” Leonie grumbles. “He’s this big lord and I’m just from a village in the middle of nowhere.” 

“My adoptive father has always been a big supporter of the Reigan family, including Claude,” Marianne reminds her. “And he was supportive during the war as well. He knows from my letters that you were integral to the war effort, so even though you weren’t born into a noble family, I don’t think you could offend him too much.” At least, until Marianne told him that they were intending to be married. _Then_ all the criticism would come out. Marianne intends to keep that from Leonie as long as possible. Someone as amazing as Leonie doesn’t deserve the harsh standards of Marianne’s adopted father, even though Marianne is sure that she would rise to the challenge. 

“Maybe,” Leonie allows. “Everyone here knows that you’re from a noble family, but you don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.” 

“Isn’t the point of coming here to get to know your family?” Marianne asks her. “And isn’t your village so small, that you consider them all your family?” 

“Well,” Leonie says, slightly flustered. “Yes. But like I said, they’re probably going to be fairly pushy. I’ll say no to them if you don’t want to.” 

“Let me handle them,” Marianne says firmly. “And if I need any help, I’ll let you know.” After surviving plenty of battlefields, this shouldn’t be too hard of a fight, right? 

“Okay,” Leonie says, sitting up a little bit higher in her saddle. “We’re almost there – you know, I fell out of that tree when I was a kid and broke my arm? The whole thing annoyed me more than anything, because I couldn’t practise my archery for a few months while it healed.” 

“Your left arm?” Marianne asks. She has noticed that there’s a weak spot about three quarters of the way down Leonie’s arm when she’s healed her in the past. 

“Yeah,” Leonie says, looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “How’d you know?” 

Marianne tells her as they make their way down the final stretch of the road. It’s been four days of travel from the Monastery, and she’s ready to sit down and eat something that hasn’t been pulled out of her saddlebag or cooked over an open fire. Leonie’s cooking skills are very good, but even she can’t make thin game into something that resembles the hearty fare they’re usually treated to at Garreg Mach. 

Marianne spots the sign by the side of the road before she sees the first person or the first house. It pronounces that _Sauin Village_ is ahead, and that it is located within the county of Gloucester. There’s also a population count beneath that, but it has been scratched over and amended so many times that Marianne can’t quite make out what the official count is supposed to be. 

“Home sweet home,” Leonie murmurs, craning her head around to take in the changes. 

“When were you last here?” Marianne asks her. 

“Before the Professor came back to us,” Leonie says. “When they did, I was with Lorenz fighting on the border. It’s probably been about two years since I was last here.” 

“It’s going to snow soon,” Marianne says, looking at the sky. “Is the rest of the village far off?” 

“No,” Leonie says. “Come on, we can be there soon.” 

She kicks her mare into a canter, and Marianne leans forward to whisper to Dorte to follow. He barely needs any encouragement to do so, and they chase each other down the worn path as the first snowflakes start to fall from the sky. 

The village slowly starts to take shape around them. They pass one house, then another, and then they start to be grouped closer together. The trees thin until Marianne can make out a clearing, and the road changes to cobblestones under their horses hooves. Leonie constantly yells out greetings to the people that they pass, the village humming as they prepare for the first snow of the season. Marianne lifts her own hand to greet the few people who call out to her too, but since Leonie doesn’t stop neither does she. 

They slow in what must be the town’s main gathering point. There’s an inn that looks like it doubles as a tavern, with a stable attached to one side. The largest house that Marianne has seen so far in front of them. A sprawling one storey general store takes up most of the other space around the square, with a few shops selling other things hidden around the edges. 

They’ve attracted several people who have followed them up the main road, clearly interested in the newcomer and wanting to welcome Leonie properly. Marianne swings down from her saddle and pats Dorte on the neck. “I’ll give you some apples later,” Marianne promises him, and he lips at her hand for a second before nosing the ground in search of any hidden grass. 

“The big house is where the mayor lives,” Leonie tells her. “It’s not an inherited position, but we don’t really like change out here unless we really need it, so for the last twenty years or so it’s been –” 

“Leonie Pinelli!” 

Marianne blinks as a monster of a man bursts out of the mayor’s house. He must have at least four hands on Marianne, and is three times as broad. Still, his physique is mostly muscle and she knows enough to see that he’s in top working condition. 

“Hi there, uncle Ris,” Leonie says. She attempts to bow to him, but he sweeps her up in a giant bone-cracking hug. Leonie laughs, and Marianne catches the reins of her horse so she won’t get too nervous in the crowd that’s quickly forming around them. 

“My wayward niece,” Ris says fondly. His eyes alight on Marianne, and she bows to him. The motion is easy after years of court etiquette being drilled into her, but something about it must give her away because there’s a titter of laughter among the townspeople which is quickly silenced. 

“Hello,” she greets. “My name is Marianne von Edmund. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You brought a noble back with you?” Ris asks Leonie, depositing her down again. Leonie takes a step back and brushes off her tunic, something she wouldn’t normally bother with. Marianne takes it as a nervous gesture, and steps closer to her side. 

“Yes,” Leonie says. “She’s my guest here, so please welcome her as if she were me. Marianne excels in magic, both light and dark, and served as a general alongside me in the war.” 

It’s a strange introduction, but most of the townspeople around them nod. 

“You have much to update me on,” Ris says gruffly. “But what matters is that you’re here, and safe.” He clears his throat and then raises his voice to yell to the people gathered. “Leonie’s come a long way and the first snow is setting in – tomorrow will be a time for stories and reflection over a fire not your own. Until then, back to your hearths.” 

There’s a flurry of people coming and either bowing or being bowed to, but then they’re standing alone in the courtyard. 

“Meagan can take your horses,” Ris says, nodding to the inn. “Go and settle them, and then come inside. I’m looking forward to hearing all about where the wayward winds have taken you.” 

“Thanks uncle,” Leonie says, smiling at him. “Come on, Mari.” 

Marianne nods to Ris one more time, and then gives the reins of her horse back to Leonie. As they cross the square to the inn, she watches as the people run around in the fading afternoon light, and wonder what else this place will have in store for her. 

* * *

The inside of the mayor’s house is cosy, in a dark sort of way. There’s hardly any windows, and those that are there are small and don’t let much light in. The fire in the hearth only lights the main room, and Marianne can’t see any spaces for candles along the walls. Maybe she’s just gotten used to the Monastery, but it feels smaller inside than it looks from the outside. 

Leonie falls into place so neatly, Marianne has to blink and wonder if she imagined the last year. Ris has already started cooking something for dinner, but Leonie gets out the extra plates without having to ask where they are, and starts messing around in the kitchen, slicing up vegetables. 

“Marianne? Can you get my saddlebags please? We can add some meat to this.” 

Marianne takes Leonie’s saddlebags up to the kitchen, and digs through them until she finds the extra jerky that Leonie was talking about. Leonie dumps it all in a boiling pot to soften it, and Marianne leans against the counter companionally, the saddlebags resting against her hip. 

“Did you grow up in this house?” Marianne asks, even though she doesn’t have to. Now that she’s looking a little more closely, she can see signs of Leonie everywhere – in the carving on the legs of the chairs, on the layers of quivers behind the front door. The blankets tucked away in the corner are all Leonie’s favourite colour. The way that Leonie moves around the space, like she’s falling into a place that had just been awaiting her return. 

“Yeah,” Leonie says. “After my parents died, uncle Ris took me in. He’d only been living here for a few months at that point, so we made it a home together.” She smiles wistfully. “He’s redecorated since I was last here.” 

The entire place reminds her of Leonie. It definitely makes sense to her that she grew up here; Marianne wonders what Leonie would think, seeing Marianne’s own home for the first time. Would she think the same? 

Ris blows in from the back door with a half dozen logs slung over his shoulder, and a light dusting of snow in his hair. He puts them by the fire and then feeds several into the flames. “So tell me,” Ris says. “Is the war finally over now?” 

“It’s over,” Leonie says. “Claude and the Professor are working out the legalities of it, but they’re doing that between Garreg Mach Monastery and Derdriu. With the Emperor and the King dead, there’s no one to oppose them.” 

“I suppose they have the backing of the Church too,” Ris grumbles, coming into the kitchen and choosing a pot that’s hanging from the back wall. 

“Yes, the Archbishop is supporting the Professor, and it’s likely that they will step up to become the next Archbishop” Leonie says. 

“Hmph,” Ris grunts. “In your last letter you said that you had permanent employment with the Church. Does that no longer stand?” 

“It still stands,” Leonie reassures him. “The Professor has just given me a break in my contract to come and visit home.” 

Ris puts the pot on the stove after filling it with water. He eyes Marianne for a second before taking the vegetables and putting them in the pot. Leonie takes a container from the wall and puts some of the powder inside in the pot. 

“It’s good to see you,” Ris says. “Jill will want you to show the boys more archery, and Yoseph has been complaining of a boar in his woods that’s too dangerous for him to take on.”

Leonie nods as Ris continues with several other villagers who need help. Marianne watches how they move around each other, and how easily Leonie accepts the tasks that her uncle gives her. Like it’s the normal thing to be done. Marianne supposes that she was much the same, though her adoptive father was more likely to give her his expectations through one of the staff. 

“How long are you intending to stay?” 

“A week,” Leonie says. “Then we’ll make our way north to Edmund, to see Marianne’s father.” 

“And why’s that?” 

Leonie takes a steadying breath, and looks the most unbalanced since walking through the door. “Marianne and I wish to get married,” she says. “And I’d like your approval for the match.” 

Ris pauses, and for the first time he properly looks at Marianne. While his hair is the same wild orange as Leonie’s, his eyes are a different colour, a brown so dark that it’s almost black. The evaluating stare he levels on her is fierce and protective, and Marianne sets her chin and meets his gaze. 

“That’s an interesting proposition to make for someone I’ve just met,” he says ponderingly. 

“Uncle,” Leonie protests. “I’ve been telling you about Marianne in my letters for years.” 

Ris grunts. “Still. This is the first time you’ve brought her home.” 

“We’ve been fighting in the war,” Leonie says. “And you just said that Hayleaf broke her leg last week and needs help around the house – well, Marianne can help heal her. She’s strong in faith magic.” 

“So you’ve said,” Ris sniffs. “She hasn’t said anything, though.” 

“I was an asset to the war effort,” Marianne says quietly, unsure of exactly where they stand but willing to help. “I will be able to heal a broken leg.” 

Ris still hasn’t taken his eyes off of her. This is hardly the first time that she’s been under such scrutiny, but that doesn’t mean that she likes it. 

“Well then, after dinner go and visit Hayleaf,” he says. 

“If there’s any other wounded in the village, I can heal them too,” Marianne says. “It’s my duty and my pleasure as a doctor.” 

“Heila broke his arm a few weeks ago climbing up an apple tree,” Ris grunts. “You can speak with Trella, our healer, tomorrow about anyone else.” 

Marianne nods. 

“Uncle,” Leonie says, rerouting the conversation back to where she wants it. “Marianne and I have been together for over two years now.” 

“She’s a noble,” Ris says. “They’re complicated. Much better for you to marry a village lass.” 

“I’ve been living among nobles for a long time,” Leonie says. “And if I keep up my bodyguard duty with the Professor, then I’m going to keep living among them. I’m not just another village lady that you need to take care of.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re _my_ village lady,” Ris sighs. He taps his fingers against the tabletop. “Stay until the end of the week. We can talk about it more.” 

Leonie stares him down for an awkward minute. Marianne puts the saddlebags down and goes and stirs the pots on the stove, since the two of them seem to be having an entire conversation without saying anything at all. 

“I already said that we’re staying until the end of the week,” Leonie tuts. 

“And you’re staying here.” 

“Of course,” she says. “Where else would we stay? This is my home.” 

Ris nods. “Then come on. Let’s finish cooking and eat.” 

That must mean something, because Leonie’s face splits into a wide smile. “Of course,” she says. “Let’s.” 

* * *

Mornings in Sauin Village are different from mornings in the Monastery, or mornings in a war camp. In the Monastery, there was always someone in the kitchens, whether that be the massive effort needed to prepare meals for everyone, or just the bakers preparing the next day’s bread. Camping on the path to war was similar in that there was so much to do, and so little time to do it. Marianne has become a master of multitasking, and a dozen tasks that she’d never thought were necessary when going to war. 

Sauin Village is _sleepy._ Marianne rises even before Leonie, used to having to get up before the rest of the camp to prepare the medical area before the battle of the day, or just helping around the Monastery. The broken leg she had healed yesterday evening had hardly drained her reserves, and she takes the opportunity to center herself for the day by ducking into the stables and speaking with Dorte. 

“I don’t know if I fit in here,” she murmurs to him. “I’ve spent years just learning how to be a proper noble. I haven’t had much time to practise how to relate to commoners. It’s hard enough talking to people when there are rules that both of us have to follow.” 

Dorte blows out his breath at her elbow. 

“Leonie fits in so well, but she grew up here so it makes sense,” Marianne continues. “But I don’t know if I can relate to all the people here. When I was healing that woman’s broken leg last night, they kept asking about all the riches and jewels that I apparently have, and how many people I killed during the war. Is that what people think of us all? Is that what they think of Leonie? She deserves better from them. I can tell how she acts, that she thinks of all of them as her family.” 

Marianne strokes the brush through Dorte’s mane again. 

“I just want to connect with them,” she sighs. “But I’m not very good at connecting with people at the best of times, so I’m not sure how well I can do with only a week with complete strangers. But I’ll try,” she hurries to reassure him. “For Leonie, I want to try. And for myself, as well. If I’m going to marry her, then I’m really going to be marrying into this village.” 

“Ma’am?” 

Marianne turns to find a woman behind her, wearing a smock and carrying a pitchfork. 

“Hello,” Marianne says. “Do you work here?” 

“If owning counts as working,” the woman says. “I’m Meagan. I run the inn and the stable.” 

Marianne nods. “Dorte looks like he’s been well cared for. Thank you.” 

Dorte had told her that the grain he’d been given was good, but obviously she wasn’t going to tell that to a stranger. She doesn’t think that Leonie’s village needs to know about her Crest at all, but it had steadied her nerves to know that Dorte is happy. 

Meagan nods. “Horses are important to all of us out here. It pays off well to take good care of them.” She looks at Dorte. “Even though your horse is one of the largest I’ve ever seen.” 

“He’s a war horse,” Marianne says. “Bred for battle rather than the plough.” 

“I can tell,” Meagan sniffs. “Are you always awake this early?” 

“Usually,” Marianne agrees. “I’ve gotten used to it. There’s much to do in the mornings, and I’ve never had much trouble getting up before dawn.” 

Meagan shifts her stance. “Well, then come inside.” 

She walks off, using the pitchfork as a cane. Marianne frowns after her, but tucks Dorte’s comb into her saddlebags and then follows Meagan into the inn. 

There’s no one else inside the inn, the tables that are scattered around the main area empty but clean. Meagan leads her to the bar, and Marianne gingerly sits as Meagan puts the pitchfork down and brings a bowl of eggs up from under the counter to crack onto the stove. 

“You’re the first breath of fresh air that has come around these parts for a long time,” Meagan says. “Last time we had someone come round to stay… oh it must have been when Leonie became so fixed on that rough and tumble man.” 

“Jeralt?” 

“Yes, him. He had a whole string of mercenaries with him, but they said that they left half their party somewhere else. It was still far more excitement than this place has seen since. All the children couldn’t be counted on for helping in the fields because they were running around after all those mercenaries, asking for tips on how to use a bow, or how to ride a horse, or what it was like outside the village. Of course, only Leonie actually made it out. With the help of everyone pitching in, of course. We know that she was the brightest of her generation.” 

“She found a place for herself in the Monastery,” Marianne says. “She enjoyed being there, and I know how grateful she was to have the opportunity thanks to you all.” 

Marianne thinks of one of Leonie’s saddlebags, which has money enough to pay back all of her loans to the village plus some. While they were here mostly to gain Ris’s approval for their marriage, Leonie hadn’t passed up the opportunity to finally pay back her village for the kindness that they had paid her when they had first lent her the money to travel to Garreg Mach. 

Meagan sniffs. “It’s good to hear it. She says how grateful she is to us all, but I never know how much she truly got out of the experience.” 

“We would have struggled without her, in the war,” Marianne says quietly. “I am grateful, too, that she has come into my life.” 

Meagan stirs the eggs around in the pan as they start to cook, adding a touch of salt and some greens from a bowl by her elbow. She turns to look at Marianne, face set in a pensive expression. 

“I don’t know much about what nobles get up to,” she says. “Edmund is a territory far up north, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Marianne says. “It borders the Sreng gulf. Edmund is a fishing territory, which is different from the plains of Gloucester.” 

“I’ve never seen the ocean,” Meagan says. “So do you have any brothers? Sisters? Cousins?” 

“Ah… no,” Marianne says. “There’s only Duke Edmund and myself.” 

“So why are you bothering with our Leonie?” Meagan says, almost angry. “She’s a town girl. Surely there’s a noble boy out there who would have you.” 

“Leonie and I are a good match,” Marianne says firmly. “And I don’t want anyone except her.” 

“I know that Leonie can give you a child for your line,” Meagan says, flipping the eggs. “But can you give her a family? She’s a good girl. She deserves someone who will care for her for the rest of her life. I know you nobles are prone to dramatics and that your unions aren’t always permanent.” 

Marianne tucks her chin against her chest, indignation bubbling up inside her. “I’ve said, that I’m grateful that she came into my life. She taught me to find joy in the small things, and she’s always been beside me when I needed her. It’s my pleasure to stand beside her and help her when she needs me. She’s changed my life for the better, and every day we spend together is a day I could never regret.” 

Meagan’s expression doesn’t change. 

“Besides, she already has a family,” Marianne says, quieter. “I’ve seen how you all welcome her back here, how she knows everyone’s name and how happy she is to see you all. You aren’t replaceable.” 

“Even so,” Meagan agrees. “She’s always had a wild soul, Leonie. Always looking to the horizon, trying to find something. It’s why we all agreed to get the money together that was needed to send her to that Monastery. We all knew that she’d never be happy living her whole life in this village.” 

Marianne can’t imagine Leonie staying here, not straying far from the borders of town. She’s meant for the wild plains, long journeys atop a horse, and finding new and exciting discoveries in the wilderness. 

“You see her,” Meagan finally says, putting a plate with the eggs down in front of her. “And you care about your horse. If you have land, then I don’t see why Ris wouldn’t approve of the match. After all, Leonie was never going to set down roots here after she left. It’ll be good to see her happy.” 

“I will try my best to ensure it is so,” Marianne vows to them both. 

“See that you do,” Meagan says. “Now eat your eggs. You have a long day ahead of you.” 

Marianne takes a bite; it’s delicious. 

* * *

The heat of the sun beats down on the back of her neck, and Marianne wishes that she had brought a hat. When Leonie had said that they were going for a walk, she’d expected something close by. Instead, they’ve been out here, walking, for well over an hour at this point. It’s nearing the middle of the day, and even in the cold winter months, this far south is still too warm for her northern tastes. 

“Oh, you see that pond – Leslie and I used to fish there to get some extra food in the summer. Ris would always tell me to take the fish to the inn; he doesn’t like fish, so he never wanted it for dinner.” 

“The pond is quite small. Did you fish there often?” 

“Nah,” Leonie says. “Once or twice a year, maybe. We never took much, but it was always nice to have fresh fish.” Leonie stops under a tree, and shades her eyes as she picks out the next stage of their path through the long grass. She turns to Marianne and her mouth falls open in dismay. “Mari! Come here, under the shade. Drink some water.” 

“Right,” Marianne says. Leonie sweeps the dirt off of a root for her, and Marianne sits down gratefully. Leonie gives her the waterskin, and Marianne takes a sip from it gratefully, before passing it back to Leonie. She drinks some as well, and then insists that Marianne keep it. 

“You’re still recovering after the final battle,” Leonie frowns. “You should have said something.” 

“It was just that hill,” Marianne protests. She had been laid up for several weeks after they had defeated Nemesis, but that injury had well and truly healed by now. As a healer, she feels qualified to say that. “I’m fine, Leonie.” 

“Well, you’ll be even better after a break,” Leonie declares. 

“Anything else to say about this place?” Marianne asks her. 

Throughout the walk, Leonie had told her all about the different trees that they passed, the different gullies and hills and what she had done there as a child. They’d passed the place where she had practised her archery, and the place where she and the other village children had gone to steal plums off the trees. 

“Nah,” Leonie says. “This is pretty far out from the village if you don’t live out here. It’s bordering on Gloucester land, and if we hunted there and were caught, we’d be done for poaching. It’s too hilly to plant crops on, so people would let their pigs and goats roam around here. Another reason why we didn’t come out here to fish all that often. It was a long trek back to the village, and you had to carry the fish pretty carefully the whole way.” 

Marianne feels a smile play over her mouth as she takes another sip of water. “Did you ever drop any?” 

“Of course,” Leonie scoffs. “Leslie and I would argue sometimes, just about silly little things… but we were both pretty physical, and one thing would lead to another, and then we’d be wrestling instead of carrying the fish, and the fish would be in the dirt, and we’d bring it back to the village and get scolded for wasting food. We still cleaned them up, but it did take extra time.” 

“Hm,” Marianne hums. “I had… well, a slightly similar habit. The Edmund estate is actually above the town below it, and it is too high up to have any apple trees. But the town had several, and I would sneak out to steal some for the horses when they were especially sad, and telling me that they were cold and missed the sun.” 

“Couldn’t let them go hungry, huh?” 

“They had their normal food,” Marianne says. “But the apples did cheer them up.” 

“Sneaking out doesn’t sound like you,” Leonie says. “I remember when we first met. You were as timid as a mouse.” 

“Maybe,” Marianne agrees. “But I knew every corner and hiding place in the Edmund estate, and I loved the horses. I couldn’t stand to see them unhappy. I was so petrified while doing it, but afterwards everyone was so happy that I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. I used it as motivation the next time, too.” 

“Did you ever get caught?” 

“No,” Marianne says, thinking about it. “It was close, several times. I wore a disguise, which thinking back was not very good at all. But no one expected me to be out of my room, both because I wasn’t allowed and because they didn’t think I was the type to disobey. So even if they saw something a little out of the ordinary, they didn’t think that I was the one who could have been there to disturb things.” 

“Hm.” Leonie looks out over the landscape again, thinking to herself. Marianne watches as her brow furrows, and then relaxes as she spots something off in the distance. Their stories are so different – Leonie’s are always filled with one or more of the other children she grew up with, or are about her and Jeralt and what he taught her. Marianne’s stories never have any other people in them, except as obstacles to get around. 

“Okay, I’m good to go again,” Marianne says, standing up. 

“Have a bit more water,” Leonie insists. “We can stop by the pond on the way back to refill it if we need to.” 

“You still haven’t told me why we’re coming out here,” Marianne says, looking up to meet her eyes. 

“Ah,” Leonie tuts. “No peeking. I’ll tell you when we get there.” 

“Are we almost there?” Marianne asks as Leonie starts picking her way down the hill. 

“Yes, almost there,” Leonie says. “Like I said, the Gloucester noble territory starts fairly soon, and it’s not a great idea to cross even if we know Lorenz.” 

“Right,” Marianne says. At the bottom of the hill, she can see a small clearing in the trees – is that where Leonie wants to take her? 

They push forwards, Leonie leading through the long grass. Despite her claims that people graze their animals out here, everything seems fairly undisturbed. There mustn’t be many deer out here, otherwise the grass would be much shorter. 

When they reach the tree line, Leonie hesitates for a second, standing and staring into the undergrowth. Marianne catches up to her side and then takes her hand for a second, squeezing it lightly. 

“We don’t usually come out here,” Leonie says. “We like to let the dead rest.” 

Marianne looks up at her, but Leonie is still facing forward. She takes a step into the shade of the trees. It’s a strange copse – the trees are mostly the same type, but they’re of wildly different ages, and in the middle of a large field. 

“Did you plant these?” Marianne asks. 

“Well, not me,” Leonie says. “But yeah, the village has tended to these trees for… I don’t know how long, but it’s been a long time.” 

They pass under an extremely large tree, and Marianne tilts her head back to let the dappled light fall over her. Leonie moves quickly but quietly through the trees, never touching any where she can avoid it. Marianne tries to follow her example, stepping where she steps and only touching what she touches. 

Towards the middle of the mini forest, Leonie comes to a stop. There’s two trees of a similar age, and one next to them that looks quite young. 

“Marianne,” Leonie says, taking a breath. “This is… where my parents are buried.” 

Marianne steps over to her side to lay a hand on her arm, looking up at the two trees in front of them. “Under the trees?” she asks quietly. Leonie nods. 

“When someone in our village dies, we want to remember them. But we owe everything to the land, and it’s only right that in the end, we go back to it. So when someone dies, we take them out here, and add them to the forest.” 

“How did your parents die?” Marianne asks. 

“They got caught by surprise in a flash flood,” Leonie says. “They happen every few years, but it was at the end of the season and no one was expecting it. We’re lucky that only they were caught up in it.” 

Marianne squeezes her arm. “Just because only they died, doesn’t mean it was a good thing. You still lost them.” 

Leonie nods. “Yeah. It… happened a long time ago. But I should have been with them; instead I’d been skipping work to play with the other kids. When Ris took me in, it really hit home that the village helped me so much, and that I needed to grow up strong enough to help them too.” 

“So when Jeralt came through, you saw it as your chance,” Marianne finishes. 

“He taught me so much,” Leonie sighs. “From outside the village. He told me that he believed that I could be a good mercenary. He was the first person to really believe in my dream, and that gave me enough drive to keep going.” She flashes a smile at Marianne. “I guess I have him to thank for you, too. Without me going to the Monastery for training, we never would have met.” 

Marianne can’t imagine how the war would have gone without Leonie. So many times, Leonie was there to defend her, or to help her carry the injured off the battlefield, or just to keep her falling into her own self dug pit of despair. 

“I owe him too, then,” Marianne says firmly. “I don’t know where I would be without you.” 

Leonie blushes slightly, dipping her head. “You’re sweet, Marianne.” She looks back at the trees. “I haven’t been back in so long. Their trees are really big now. It’s good to see. Really good.” She clears her throat. “I just wanted to introduce you to them, and, well…” 

She walks over to the smaller tree that’s next to Leonie’s parents. 

“Leonie?” 

Leonie’s mouth twists slightly. “This is where I’m buried, too. Or, the me that used to be.” She scratches the back of her neck. “When I told everyone that I was a girl, we had a funeral for the old me. Even though there’s no body, we still planted a tree. Next to my parents, because we normally try to keep families together here if we can.” 

Marianne looks at the small tree. It’s one of the youngest in this grove, but it still looks healthy. “Can I touch it?” Marianne asks. “If that’s okay.” 

“You can touch my tree,” Leonie says, smiling a little bit. “Since it’s mine, I think I get to pick who can lay hands on it.” 

Marianne steps up to the tree and strips off her glove. The black scars that run up her palms and the back of her hands from her overuse of reason magic during the war are still there, but with only the two of them to see she doesn’t mind baring them. 

“Thank you for bringing Leonie to me,” Marianne says. “I promise I’ll do my best to take care of her.” 

The tree doesn’t answer, but Marianne hadn’t expected it too. She stands there for another few seconds before moving back to Leonie’s side, smiling up at her. 

“Do the different types of trees mean anything?” 

Leonie lets out a shaky breath, and then shakes her head slightly as if to get rid of something. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, come on. I’ll show you.” 

* * *

The shadows are getting long by the time they get back to the village. They’ve held hands on the entire way back, Leonie telling her even _more_ stories of her youth. Marianne had shared some of her own in return, things that she never thought she’d ever have the chance to tell anyone. Hearing Leonie laugh or defend her younger self had lit a warmth in her chest that Marianne is sure isn’t going to leave for a long while. 

Marianne greets the family of the woman who’s broken leg they had healed on the way back, and they pass Meagan and the healer’s apprentice who she knows as well. After just being here for a few days, she’s beginning to recognise people. Even the people who she hasn’t spoken to yet are starting to look familiar. There truly aren't that many people in this town. No wonder Leonie is close with them all. 

Leonie promises that they’ll come and visit an older lady later tonight, one of many visits that Leonie has promised on their walk down the main street. Even though she doesn’t know all of their names yet, Marianne is certain that by the time they leave, she will. 

“We can freshen up at home before we go visiting,” Leonie whispers to her. 

“Freshen up,” Marianne giggles. “You sound like Ferdinand.” 

Leonie swats at her with her free hand. “Take that back! Take it back!” 

Marianne laughs. “You’re just too scared to admit the truth!” 

“No – there’s – ugh!” Leonie covers her face with one hand, which doesn’t do much to hide the tinge of pink on her cheeks. 

“No need for all that,” Marianne tells her. 

“I just want to look good,” Leonie grumbles. “Who knows when we’ll come back?” 

_We._ Marianne’s breath catches for the last few steps that it takes them to reach the front of Leonie’s house. 

“We can come back whenever you want to,” Marianne tells her. “Byleth will give you time off to visit, just like they did when they agreed to let us go a few weeks ago. You know they will. So make the most of the time now, but don’t worry about it too much. Okay?” 

Leonie sighs. “Yeah. You’re right.” 

“I sometimes am,” Marianne tells her. 

“More often than you think." 

“So maybe even when I’m comparing you to Ferdinand?” Marianne asks cheekily. 

Leonie just laughs, wide and open. Marianne watches her fondly, as she throws back her head and how her eyes crinkle shut from her smile. 

“Maybe even that,” she admits. “But only maybe!” Leonie looks to her house and blinks, and Marianne follows her gaze, finding Ris standing in the doorway and watching them both. She can’t decipher what the look on his face means. 

Ris meets her eyes, and something passes between them quietly. Slowly, he nods, and the soft unease that has been sitting in her gut for the last few days melts away. Ris wants the best for Leonie. Marianne can relate. They’ll get along just fine. 

Ris must come to a similar conclusion, because he bows to them slowly. “You’re back,” he says. “Leonie ever make you a Sauin Village special?” he asks her. 

“No,” Marianne says, looking at Leonie out of the corner of her eye. “She hasn’t.” 

“Then come on,” Ris says gruffly, motioning for them to come inside. “I’ll show you.”

Heart full, Marianne squeezes Leonie’s hand. Everything’s going to work out just fine. Leonie flashes a bright smile at her. They walk forward, together. 


End file.
